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“Well, some certainly do. But a lot of us have taken this. It keeps us youthful. How old do you say I am, Parker?” he asked in his slight Italian accent, piercing me with a cool brown stare.
“I… I don’t know, Martin. I don’t like to guess people’s age. It’s rude.” There was no way I was going to insult this guy who was practically my ticket to fame.
He chuckled, his skin crinkling at the corners of his eyes. “C’mon, you can’t hurt my feelings.”
I stared at him, then said, “I don’t know, forty-five?” I actually thought he was more like late fifties, but I didn’t want to insult him in case he wasn’t.
He laughed again. “I’m ninety-seven years old, young man.”
My eyes widened. “No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am. Unfortunately, I wasn’t introduced to this magic potion until I was in my mid-fifties. But I won’t really be aging much more after this, and I’m immune to diseases and viruses. It’s amazing.”
I didn’t believe a word he said and was sure he had probably taken some kind of crap before I got here. “Well, that’s pretty unbelievable,” I replied, not sure what else to say.
“Don’t you want to stay beautiful forever? Never get sick?” he asked, staring at me in the eye with such intensity, I found it hard to look away. I was starting to feel a little lightheaded and figured it was the champagne since I rarely drank.
“I… I don’t know about that. I still look like a kid sometimes, hence the commercial I was cast in today,” I replied. Hell no did I want to be twenty-one forever. The only appealing thing about the so-called drug he was offering was the immunity to disease and virus. Still, I wasn’t sure he was even telling the truth.
“You won’t be sorry, I promise you. There’s just one little catch, though,” he said, sitting on the bed and patting it for me to sit next to him.
Here we go. I obeyed and put my hands in my lap. “What’s that?”
“I’ll need a bit of your blood. It has to be mixed with this elixir to work properly.”
Staring at him in revulsion, I said, “Absolutely not.”
“It won’t hurt. Just a little from your wrist.” Why I hadn’t noticed it before I wasn’t sure, but I looked down and saw a metal cap over his index finger. It had a sharpened point at the end and looked like some kind of macabre thimble.
I pulled my wrist away. This was getting weird and I just wanted to leave. “I think I need to go.” I went to stand, and he pushed me back down with surprising strength I didn’t think he’d have for his age.
“Don’t go. Please. I have so many plans for you. I just bought an action movie script that you would be perfect for. Leading role. You have my word, Parker.”
My eyes went wide. “You think after one commercial I can get a leading role? No way.”
He nodded and smiled again at me. “I’m the producer, I cast who I want.”
“That sounds amazing,” I said, getting excited at the thought.
“Just drink this, okay? It’ll make you strong and healthy. Then, I’ll make you rich and famous beyond your wildest dreams.”
I licked my lips and looked at the vial. The way I saw it, this guy was full of shit. No way did I believe he was 97. So, I had nothing to lose by taking it. Even if I got high or something, it would wear off and I would have appeased him so I could get that movie role. “O… okay. I’ll do it.”
He clapped his hands and smiled. “Perfect. Now, give me your wrist.”
I pushed the sleeve of my sweater up to my elbow and held it out for him. He used his sharp thimble to slice horizontally across my wrist. I hissed in pain. He dribbled my blood into the vial, and I watched as his eyes kind of glossed over. He clamped his mouth shut as if he was trying not to keep something in. Once he had as much as he wanted, he put the stopper back on and handed me his handkerchief from his pocket square. “Hold that on there.”
Pushing the cloth onto my wrist, I watched as he shook the vial, and then pulled the stopper off. He handed it to me. “Drink it down in one shot. Like tequila or whiskey.”
I smelled it, wrinkling my nose. “This is blood.”
“Mixed with magic,” he whispered, the corners of his lips tipping up as if he had a secret.
Furrowing my brow at the strange comment, I forced a smile and with a shrug said, “Bottoms up.” It tasted awful and coppery, just like blood would, and I handed it back to him with a gag.
He set the vial on the nightstand and grabbed my hand. Pulling the handkerchief away, he began to lick the wound. It was gross and weird. “What are you—” I couldn’t finish because my stomach cramped up something fierce, and an awful flash of raging heat began to race through my veins. I cried out for help and Martin laid me on the bed. I tried to protest but I was in too much pain.
What the hell is going on! I screamed inside my mind.
